Evening Things
by ScribeofHeroes
Summary: Legolas grows weary of his friend's way of evening things between them during archery practice, until someone else evens them for him.
1. Chapter 1

**I did not create nor own any of the following places or characters created by J. R. R. Tolkien that are in this story, Arda/Middle Earth, Mirkwood/Green Wood the Great, or Legolas. I did create Collas, Mellolaes and her cousins** **Anduant and Adulas. Lathwinion is a reference to the version of Legolas' mother I created.**

**This story is for entertainment purposes only so please read and be entertained.**

Legolas sneaked through the palace halls with a quiver strapped to his back and and a bow gripped in one hand. His eyes darted in every direction. He paused. His gaze shifted to stare down one corridor, and then the other. He listened. He felt.

A familiar presence was near, too near.

Legolas grit his teeth. He leaned down, bent his knees, tensed, and shot forward. The hallways seemed to flood past as he sped through them. The presence was left farther and farther behind. Legolas smirked.

A few turns and several halls later his path ended in a wall. Then a sliver of light appeared in it. The doorway grew wider as two tree roots parted to let him pass. With a final burst of speed Legolas shot out into the sunlight.

The elf slid to a stop on the grass. Straightening, Legolas placed both hands on his hips and basked in his triumph. Then the grin fled his face.

"Where are you going, mellon nin?"

Legolas spun around. His head jerked up. His eyes widened.

There, in the branches of the tree whose roots opened and shut the door, stood a red-haired elf. A full quiver was strapped to his back. His hand held a bow. A smirk was spread over his face. Legolas' jaw dropped.

"How did you get out here?"

Collas chuckled.

"I felt you slinking by and went out through a hole in the roof another tree graciously provided. While you turned several times, I took a straight path over your head."

Legolas' hand slapped over his face. His shoulders slumped. Collas raised an eyebrow. Then his eyes fastened themselves upon to bow in the other elf's hand.

"Going to practice I see."

Legolas' head snapped back up. He crossed his arms.

"Yes, and this time I wish to practice alone."

Legolas spun away on one foot letting his arms fall to his sides, and strode toward the lake. Collas dropped from the tree and trotted to his side.

"All right then, we will practice alone, together."

Legolas set his jaw and said nothing. Collas continued to grin as he matched the shorter elf stride for stride. When they came to a log in their path, the red-haired elf sprang upon it and turned back to his fellow.

"You know I need the practice more than you, Lathwinnion. I cannot let you get too much better than me."

"Perhaps if you practiced alone?"

"Ah, but that is so dull."

Legolas went over the log without glancing at the other elf standing upon it.

"How am I to become the greatest archer in Arda with you tagging along and keeping things 'even'?"

Collas' hopped down with a grin.

"How cruel of me. Especially since there are not countless ages ahead of us for you to reach your goal in."

"Every other warrior of our race is ages ahead of us."

Collas threw an arm around Legolas' shoulders.

"And you are still just the best archer under a century old."

Legolas rolled his eyes.

"Indeed, the greatest among all three of us."

Collas turned a grin upon him.

"But those three include me."

He released the other elf and trotted on ahead. Legolas glared at his back.

"How many shots are you going to let me take this time before 'evening' things?"

Collas answered while laughing and not looking back.

"Don't worry, mellon nin. You will make four-hundred perfect shots before we return."

. . .

Legolas watched the hollow gourd, the size of his fist, bob up and down upon the surface of the lake. He studied the rhythm of the waves, felt the coming breeze, pictured how to account for both. Then he raised his bow, pulled back on the string, and smirked. Perfect shot four hundred and one. Perhaps someone had lost count.

"Achoo!"

Legolas flinched minutely. The arrow sped from his bow, flew across the lake's surface, and landed a knuckle-length from the target's center. The archer lowered his bow, grit his teeth, and turned towards the elf behind him.

Collas grinned while wiping his nose upon the back of his hand.

"Sorry, your highness. I don't know what came over me."

Legolas swung his bow at the other elf's head. Collas ducked under the swing with a laugh. Then he turned and dashed down the beach. The Silvan paused, drew his own bow, and launched an arrow at the next target. His also missed the center by a knuckle-length. He sighed and ran on.

Legolas paused his pursuit to aim at the same target. A pebble hit the side of his blond head. His shot missed the center again. Legolas spun back around and raced after the Silvan.

"You are a weak-eyed, honorless wood-maggot, Collas, to cheat me this way!"

"Why do you think I do it?!"

Laughter echoed above them. Both elves stopped. They lifted their eyes and scanned the tree line to their right. Small, identical faces peered down at them from the branches of a nearby birch. Color flooded Legolas' cheeks.

Collas laughed. Legolas strode past him, head down, grumbling in Sindarin rather than the Silvan he and Collas had been speaking in.

"Why did so many elflings have to be born this century?"

"Come now, mellon nin!" Collas threw his arm around the blond elf. "We were two of those elflings ourselves. I rather enjoyed growing up with you and Tirven. Doing so on my own would have been dull."

"Even more have been born after us. It's an invasion."

"You will feel better when you take another shot you won't mind them seeing. I promise not to interfere this time."

Legolas turned towards his friend. A cruel hunger flashed in the his eyes.

"Will you make that an oath?"

Collas' smile became strained.

"What shall I swear by?"

Legolas' own grin widened.

"Your hands. If you aren't true to your word, I get to cut them off."

Collas' arm flew off his friend's shoulders. He backed towards the woods before continuing down the beach four strides away from the other elf. The Silvan tried to chuckle away his sudden case of nerves.

"Perhaps I should simply let you gag and tie me to a tree, so I can't interfere if I want to."

Legolas' looked forward again, his smile still in place.

"That might work."

He stopped, drew, aimed, glanced at Collas, and almost ruined his own shot by laughing. The red-haired elf watched with a grin and both hands tucked out of sight beneath his armpits.

Legolas looked back to his target. His fingertips released the arrow. It flew over the water. A reflection as fleeting as a falling star passed over the lake's surface. The point buried itself in the target's center.

Legolas smirked. He stepped back with a glance at Collas. The common elf nodded his grin humbled. Then the other archer revealed his hands and stepped up to where Legolas had stood a moment before.

Collas notched his arrow, drew, and aimed. Before he released, something burst from the nearby underbrush and slammed into his legs. The archer's body lurched forward as the arrow launched from the bow. The bolt landed in the lake.

Opened mouthed, Collas looked down. Two, bright, identical faces laughed up at him. Legolas was laughing too.

"You were right mellon nin! I fell much better now."

Collas met the other archer's gaze with a ruthful smile.

"You are well-avenged, mellon nin."

"Anduant! Adulas!"

Both elflings' heads spun toward the trees. A she-elfling raced out from the woods. She was a head taller than those clinging to Collas' legs. The little elleth stopped within a few strides of the group. Then she curtsied towards both elves.

"My name is Mellolaes, great warriors. This is my fault. I was supposed to be watching them."

She looked up, met the gazes of both elflings, frowned, and waved them forward.

"Anduant, Adulas come!"

The younlings released Collas' legs. Heads bowed, they trudged forward until they flanked the slightly taller elfling. Then they turned back. The small elleth took one of their hands in each of her own. Then she glanced from one of her charges to the other.

"What do we need to say to them, cousins?"

Without waiting for a reply, she bowed low at the waist. The other elflings followed her example. Three high voices chirruped as one.

"Forgive us, kind sirs."

When the small elleth lifted her head to look Collas in the face, her bottom lip was quivering. The red-haired elf gave her an almost shamed grin. The elf's reply was as soft as Legolas had ever heard his friend speak.

"I forgive you little one." Then Collas gave each of the twins a slightly sterner look, before breaking down into a chuckle. "I forgive these small trouble makers as well."

Mellolaes' face shone with relief. Her eyes glowed. She dropped her cousins hands. Standing up onto her toes, the elfling stretched her arms up towards the tall elf reaching as high as she could.

"Oh thank you!"

Chuckling, Collas knelt down. Not only Mellolaes, but all three elflings flung their arms around him, squeezing the "grown-up" with all their might.

The elf maid's face turned upwards. Her gaze met Legolas' over his friend's shoulder. The half-Silvan smiled down at the elfling.

Her lips curled up into a smirk. Something flashed in both of the elleth's green eyes before one winked at him. Legolas started. The triumph fled the small maid's face as Collas released the elflings and rose to his feet.

Mellolaes gave another curtsy. "Thank you again kind sirs." Then she turned and raced for the trees. The small elleth never broke stride as she turned her head to call over her shoulder.

"Come Anduant, Adulas!"

The other younglings pelted after her. The she-elfling continued to look over her shoulder and gave the archers one last grin. The grown elves returned it, raising their hands in farewell.

Then Mellolaes looked back to the trees. She disappeared into them. The twins followed their cousin's example. Legolas smiled after them.

"You were right, mellon nin. Elflings are a blessing, and more cunning than one would suppose."

**A little one shot I have been working on to show Legolas, Collas, and Mellolaes' youth. I hope to have the next chapter of "How Estel Got a Nurse" up soon. It will have a brief allusion to events in this story.**

**If you liked something, please tell me about it. If you didn't you can tell me about that too. :)**

**God Bless**

**ScribeofHeroes**


	2. Chapter 2

**I neither own nor created Legolas, Greenwood the Great, or Middle Earth. I did create, Tirven, Collas, and Lathwinn the Great Queen of Greenwood the Great.**

**This story is for entertainment purposes only, so please read and be entertained.**

**Here is a story from Legolas' youth starring his friend, Tirven, and mother, Lathwinn the Great.**

Tirven raised his bow. His brows were drawn together, his lips were pressed into a line. His muscles strained as he pulled the string back.

The gourd bobbed on the waves. He counted, calculated, and released. As the arrow sped over the lake's surface a breeze came up. The gourd was blown to the right. The arrow hit it, but off center.

The young ellon bowed his head and sighed. He could hear the muffled chuckles of his fellow students and friends behind him. His cheeks burned a bit.

Legolas and Collas had hit every target center or nearer to the center than he had today, yesterday, and all the days before since they had begun practicing on the floating targets. A still target he could hit in the center, every time, but all his practice with the static poles, hanging bags, hidden masks, and balls tossed up into the air seemed to not matter here. Still, he snatched another arrow from his quiver, set it in the string, and lifted the bow.

A hand landed on his shoulder. It squeezed with gentleness and warmth that relaxed his form. Tirven lowered his bow and turned to his comforter.

The queen gave him a soft smile, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. "I would like a word alone with you Tirven, before you release another arrow."

Lathwinn the Great turned upon her son and his other friend. "If you think your skills so superior to his, then neither of you have need of more practice today. Go and gather up all the other targets still bobbing on the waves."

Both young elves fell silent and glanced at each other and then back to her. "All of them?"

The queen nodded with a wide smirk. "Yes. And see which of you can collect the most."

Both elves froze. They glanced at each other, grinned, and then sprinted off down the beach. The queen shook her head and turned back to the youth beside her. "Now, what troubles you young one? Few put in the practice you do. We elves have enough time when fate is kind to slowly chip away mountains. Why are you so grim?"

Tirven shrugged his shoulders. "The same reason I cannot hit the centers of these targets I suppose. I am half-noldo."

Lathwinn raised her eyebrows. "And why should a half-noldo not send his arrows forth straight?"

Tirven shrugged even as he turned back and lifted his bow again. "They can, I can, aim straight and pull back correctly on the string, but I cannot predict the wind as my more Silvan kin can."

His mouth became a firm line again as he gazed at the target. "But I will keep shooting until I hit the center just the same."

This time, Lathwinn laid her hand upon his gripping the bow. He turned his head to meet her gaze. Though her grip was firm her stare was warm. "You are Silvan enough, Tirven. You simply are not using your Silvaness. You believe in your ability too little and try to much."

Tirven's brows drew together as he lowered his bow and relaxed the string. "I do not understand."

The queen's eyes twinkled. "We Silvans succeed because we know our surroundings, and we know them because we listen to them. So," she placed her hands on his shoulders and gave them another slight squeeze, "sit here on the beach and listen until you know your surroundings."

Before Tirven realized what she was doing, the queen slipped the quiver's strap off his shoulder in a motion so gentle and fast, he noticed the lack of weight on his back first. While he turned his head to confirm what he felt, the queen's free hand snatched the bow and arrow from his.

Tirven's eyes flew open as his head spun back around. He looked up from his empty hand to see his teacher striding away with the essential equipment for archery practice. Tirven opened his mouth to protest. Then he closed it. She was his queen.

His hands clenched into fists. He cast his burning eyes down. The Great paused to turn back and give him another gentle smile. Her eyes still shone. "No more practicing. Do much listening instead. I must go make sure your friends do what they were told." Then the queen turned again and continued on her way. Tirven sighed and sat down in the sand.

He closed his eyes and listened. The elf noticed first the calls of a bird. The creature was perched in a bush some dozen strides away. The plant hid the singer from view with its leaves. Below its roots reached deep into a mixture of rock and sand.

Tirven then noticed the cool breeze on his cheek and the slight stirring it made in the leaves of the trees. He nodded to himself. _Now that, the breeze, is what I must most pay attention to._

He tried counting how long the gusts lasted and the moments between. However, the pattern seemed erratic. He opened his eyes, turned back toward the water, and watched the wind move the target. The fact it got father away bothered him not. He had spent decades learning to hit distant targets. Knowing when his target would move and how far was what he had yet to master. While he attempted to perfect such predictions, Tirven's back began to tingle. Something or someone stood nearby. He turned.

The queen stood behind him with her hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised. "Are you listening young one, or watching?"

Tirven attempted a cheeky smile, but it wavered as did his voice. "Both, my queen."

"M-hmm. You were attempting to almost entirely use your Noldo mind rather than your Silvan senses."

Tirven sighed as his shoulders slumped. "It is of no use my queen. Half-silvan though they call me, I am only one-fourth and my grandmother is a crafter." The young ellon raised his empty hands, palms up, in supplication. "Simply give me back my quiver and bow and let me practice until I succeed like a Noldo."

The corners of the queen's mouth curved up as her gaze turned warm. "There is nothing wrong with being one-fourth a Crafter Silvan, Tirven. They also know their environment well. And you should learn to use all you are so you may be all of the advantage you can be to all your people. Now, I want you to close your eyes and not open them again until I return or there is an emergency."

Tirven's eyes widened and mouth fell open again. "What qualifies as an emergency, my queen?"

"An endangered life."

Tirven once more bowed his head to hide the fire in his gaze, but he nodded. Then the ellon turned his face back to the water and closed his eyes. His queen flashed a grin at the back of the elf's head. Then she turned and walked down the beach to check on the other young elves under her tutelage again. Last time, she had caught them having a wrestling match in the water instead of gathering targets.

Lathwinn chuckled and shook her head. There was no lack of Silvan blood in them, neither were they crafters. She glanced over her shoulder at the other elf born not quite a century ago. Despite Tirven's Silvan grandmother being a crafter he could use her blood to his advantage as a warrior, if he would _stop _putting his mind to it.

Having his eyes closed put all things into a different perspective for Tirven. He now felt the sun's light on his face more than he saw it, though it shone through his eyelids somewhat. He felt the chill of the breeze on his sun-warmed skin even more keenly. As the nearby bird and its fellows sang on in the bushes and trees and the breeze continued rustling the leaves, all the sounds formed a picture in his mind. Of course, in his blood, and bones, and spirit he heard The Song. Now though, he felt it more. The earth felt different beneath him than usual. He was used to dark soil, not bright sand. The water before him was ever lapping, lapping, lapping. The trees spoke and sang in their own tongue, so awake.

He smiled at this. A true testament to how well loved and tended they were by his people how awake these trees were. He heard the movements of animals among them deer, rabbits, and squirrels. He heard the splashes of fish in the shallows a stone's throw away. Far, far away he heard the grunts of a bear. Then he noticed them, the slight changes in The Song right before the gusts of wind came down across the lake. he could hear them stir the leaves of the trees up the beach. And he could tell, he could predict from the sound in his ear and in wind's note in The Song how long until and how hard it would push the target.

"You can open your eyes now."

Tirven did not start as he let his eyelids fly upwards and turned to his queen. His friends were grinning behind her one standing behind each of their teacher's shoulders. Tirven smiled up at them with what was almost a Silvan smirk. "I sensed your approach in The Song."

Legolas and Collas' grins fell a little, but Collas raised his chin and voice. "And have you become a better shot just sitting here, mellon nin?"

Tirven turned his smile upon his queen. His grey eyes and serious mouth took on a humble expression. "May I see, my queen?"

She nodded and held his bow and quiver out. Tirven rose gently, smoothly, and slowly to his feet. He took them from her with another small smile. Then he turned back to face the lake and the target bobbing still on its surface. The gourd was now much farther away, several mens bow-shots farther away in fact.

The elf swung the quiver over his back. He felt every muscle in his form rejoice at the familiar weight. His bare toes dug into the sand. Again something that was almost a Silvan smirk washed over his face.

He grabbed an arrow from behind him and set it in place. He raised the bow and drew back the string. He aimed its point at the target. He smiled and waited.

Behind him, Legolas and Collas raised an eyebrow each in confusion. Tirven kept waiting and smiling, still as one frozen in ice. Then he heard it far off, the stirring of leaves. Still he waited. The stirring grew closer, the note of wind in The Song grew nearer he could feel its force already though its kiss had not yet caressed his cheek. He had to know. Could he?

There! His hair was stirred and so was the target, he shifted his aim a degree, and released. The bolt flew over the lake and hit the gourd in the center of its red-mark.

"He's found a way to cheat!"

The queen turned and raised an eyebrow at Collas. However, the Silvan's grin betrayed how proud he was of his friend. Legolas' wide, brown eyes betrayed just as much as he stared at the arrow sticking out of the floating gourd. Tirven laughed at them both.

The queen stepped up to both elves and laid a hand upon the shoulder of her son and his taller, red-haired friend. "Now, which of you will bring me back that arrow and target?"

The stares of brown eyes and green met in a flash. Two lithe bodies flew past the queen. Both forms arched in the air before disappearing under the surface of the lake with barely a splash. Tirven stared after them a bit sadly. "Ah, my queen … I wish you hadn't done that. I'd like to get that arrow back in one piece."

The queen shook her head. "Oh, one will grab the arrow and the other the target. You will see."

Tirven continued to grin at the gourd still floating so far away. "How did you know, my queen, that I needed only quiet and temporary blindness to succeed?"

The queen's nose scrunched up. Her eyes sparkled. She shook her head while she chuckled. "Oh, I need those things now and then myself, Tirven. Why do you think I send my students off so often?"

**Reviews are much appreciated and often responded to.**

**God Bless**

**ScribeofHeroes**


End file.
